This chapter contains sections titled: In Cold Bold: The Moral Psychology of Fictional Serial Killers I Think I'll Eat Your Heart: The Lack‐of‐Empathy Explanation Dexter and the Extreme Lack of Understanding The Hot‐Blooded Reality: Sex, Rage, Fame My Evil Just Happened to Come Out: Empathy Inhibits? Serial Killing Because They Care? “Angels of Death” “I didn't want to hurt them, I only wanted to kill them”: Empathic Dissonance The Serial Killer Next Door?

Aristotle is often credited with views about practical reasoning, desire, and action collectively referred to as the theory of the practical syllogism.Some commentators are skeptical about the existence of any such general theory, but most would agree that a theory of some sort is outlined in the De Motu Animalium and that it influences Aristotle’s account of akrasia in the icomachean Ethics.This paper will begin by describing the most important ideas in the De Motu Animalium discussion of the practical (...) syllogism. The ideas are simple but I think that their implications and philosophical importance have not been appreciated. I will suggest that the practical syllogism is Aristotle’s model for the rational explanation of action. Other commentators have made this claim, but I think that it can be given a very precise sense. Aristotle thinks that an action can be rationally explained if the agent acts in response to the strength of the reasons that he sees for acting. The practical syllogism is an argument that expresses the reasons in favor of the action, so if the agent acts for those reasons the action is explained by the practical syllogism. The second part of the paper considers the work that the practical syllogism does in Aristotle’s account of akrasia. I will argue that in akrasia—at least in the most extreme kind of akrasia—the agent acts intentionally to satisfy a desire but the action cannot be explained by a practical syllogism. Aristotle distinguishes between explanation by the motivational strength of desires and explanation by a practical syllogism. The last part of this paper comments on David Charles’s interpretation of Aristotle’s views about desire, practical reason, and akrasia. Charles discusses the traditionally disputed questions in a provocative way, and more importantly his suggestions fit together into a complex and philosophically sophisticated reading of Aristotle. I disagree with his most important claims, but I can best explain and defend my own interpretation by contrasting it with his. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Sophie, Greta, Cuiyuan, and Feminist DesireStories by Ding Ling, Alice Munro, and Eileen ChangYuhui Bao (bio) and Ian Dennis (bio)Desire has a history and, for a literary criticism inflected by mimetic theory, novelistic prose fiction offers a privileged view of its unfolding. We study novelistic fiction, as opposed to various romance genres, to grasp that history, for what its authors have been able to see, understand, and (...) dramatize—this is the procedural model, indeed the authority established by René Girard and that has largely governed such criticism thereafter.1 But of the three short fictions we consider here—two Chinese and one Canadian—only two are fully novelistic in character, in that they attempt to describe and diagnose—rather than merely express—emergent and changing desires. Students of Girard, of course, recognize here the distinction between the romanesque and romantique. to which one might add the understandings of genre developed by a number of other theorists.2However, we might also concede that all fictions are invariably and to some degree romantic—some desire, necessarily mediated, is always operative, in writers and readers alike, before or even as it is demystified, if indeed it is. Furthermore, a passionate fictional commitment to that which Girard boldly [End Page 131] designated the mensonge romantique may actually reveal or clarify, at least for later readers, that which the author seeks half- or unconsciously to conceal. It is with this possibility in mind that we propose to consider our other subject fiction, "Miss Sophie's Diary" (莎菲女士的日记 sha fei nv shi de ri ji; 1927) by the pioneering Chinese woman writer Ding Ling (丁玲 ding ling).3 "Miss Sophie's Diary," to be clear, is no simple romance; it is at least hybrid, and in its brave if perhaps only partially successful pursuit of the truth of desire, subtly revelatory. Miss Sophie (莎菲 sha fei), chronically ill with tuberculosis and half-separated from a human world she both longs for and despises, with her aggrieved sense of superiority and desperate, shameful longing for those she passionately feels to be her inferiors, with her loquacious rationalizing and constant, perverse reversals of attitude, is a kind of Dostoyevskian "underground woman," afflicted as well with a touch of the "nausea" later made prestigious by J.-P. Sartre.4 She is clearly a harbinger of her own culture's precipitation into the world of internally mediated, indeed, metaphysical desire, what we might also call the market world, the modernity Girard credits the great European novelists from Stendhal onward with diagnosing. This story has long been described as an unprecedented and "frank" revelation "of a Chinese woman's sexual feelings and contempt for conventional views," expressing an "outspoken and unrelenting individualism."5 At the same time, it has been seen as a product of the fatally compromised and ultimately unsuccessful May Fourth literary movement,6 and not necessarily representative of its author's overall fictional production. From an orthodox Girardian critical perspective, however, the crucial interpretative question might be the degree to which Ding Ling is aware of the sources of the newly enfranchised desires her heroine wrestles with, or, as we might also put it, the degree of separation between the author's understanding and that of Miss Sophie. But such a question is perhaps easily enough answered. Ding Ling clearly does not share Girard's "novelistic" perspective on the operation of desire. But from our current perspective, does her best-known work nonetheless offer, however imperfectly, certain now-recognizable insights into historical processes of desire that our other two writers more fully realize?"Miss Sophie's Diary" is famous in China for the delicacy, depth, and explicitness with which those bold and passionate sexual desires of Sophie are exposed, even as such desires are (perhaps reassuringly) defeated, or at least revealed as illusory. Clearly the story reflects a period of cultural and personal crisis. "I was extremely confused at that time," she wrote in a later phase of self-critique. "On one hand, I was radically rebellious, believing blindly in social revolution; on the other hand, I indulged myself in a petty bourgeoisie sense, departing from revolution, so I was trapped in loneliness, struggle and misery [End... (shrink)

Reductionism, in the sense of the doctrine that theories on different levels of reality should exhibit strict and general relations of deducibility, faces well-known difficulties. Nevertheless, the idea that deeper layers of reality are responsible for what happens at higher levels is well-entrenched in scientific practice. We argue that the intuition behind this idea is adequately captured by the notion of supervenience: the physical state of the fundamental physical layers fixes the states of the higher levels. Supervenience is weaker than (...) traditional reductionism, but it is not a metaphysical doctrine: one can empirically support the existence of a supervenience relation by exhibiting concrete relations between the levels. Much actual scientific research is directed towards finding such inter-level relations. It seems to be quite generally held that the importance of such relations between different levels is that they are explanatory and give understanding: deeper levels provide deeper understanding, and this justifies the search for ever deeper levels. We shall argue, however, that although achieving understanding is an important aim of science, its correct analysis is not in terms of relations between higher and lower levels. Connections with deeper layers of reality do not generally provide for deeper understanding. Accordingly, the motivation for seeking deeper levels of reality does not come from the desire to find deeper understanding of phenomena, but should be seen as a consequence of the goal to formulate ever better, in the sense of more accurate and more-encompassing, empirical theories. (shrink)

Desire theories of well-being claim that how well our life goes for us is solely determined by the fulfilment and frustration of our desires. Several writers have argued that these theories are incorrect because they fail to capture the harms of self-sacrifice and severe depression. In this paper, I argue that desire theories of well-being can account for the harm of both phenomena by rejecting proportionalism about desire and motivation. This is the view that desires always motivate (...) proportionally to their strength. If we reject this view, then we can explain the harm of many cases of self-sacrifice as arising when we act upon our weaker desires and thereby frustrate our stronger desires. Moreover, the harm of many cases of severe depression can be explained by its suppression of the motivational force of desires. This inevitably frustrates desires that we are left unmotivated to fulfil. I argue that this approach captures the experiential quality of self-sacrifice and severe depression better than rival views that seek to problematise these phenomena for desire theories of well-being. Moreover, these theories have sufficient conceptual resources to account for residual cases of self-sacrifice and severe depression that are less well explained by this approach. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Deceit, Desire, and The Dunciad:Mimetic Theory and Alexander PopeAllan Doolittle (bio)Anxiety expressed over what is often termed "information overload"1 is by no means solely a phenomenon of our electronic age. Recent scholarship has traced this concern as far back as the early modern period. The increased production and dissemination of books in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was a source of "wonder and anxiety"2 for authors and prompted (...) the need for a "substantial reorganization of the intellectual world."3 Seventeenth-century French scholar and critic Adrien Baillet gave warning of an impending barbarism unless there was a "separating [of] those books which we must throw out or leave in oblivion from those which one should save."4 The most recognizable expression of this imperative to sort the printed wheat from the chaff comes from the voices of some of eighteenth-century England's most studied, most admired, yet also detested authors, the Scriblerians. From this celebrated literary group came "the three great Tory satires, Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels, John Gay's Fables and Alexander Pope's The Dunciad."5Christian Thorne, in his discussion of these works in relation to the rise of the public sphere in early modern England, defines the Scriblerian rallying cry as a protest against "the rise of print culture... in which signification will [End Page 1] run amok, flooding the polity with an undifferentiated mass of contradictory opinions and arguments and thus corroding traditional forms of citizenship or civic virtue."6 Pope saw the deluge of aspiring authors and their printed output as a destructive force, a force that had a leveling effect on what he perceived as the traditional structure of the cultural hierarchy. In this article, I will look specifically at the career of Alexander Pope and his lifelong struggle against all but a small number of those who populated what Samuel Johnson called the "Age of Authors."Pope's career is indelibly marked with conflict. This conflict stemmed from Pope's untiring efforts to regulate the field in which he worked, to promote himself and his friends, and to do everything at his disposal to thwart the efforts of those whom he saw as threatening his literary endeavors. His adversaries, most often the professional ranks of Grub Street writers and publishers, served as fodder for Pope's satire and were deeply entwined in Pope's literary output. However, the adversaries he most wanted to be rid of—the primary target of his purposeful and brilliant satire—were not the "hackney scribblers" typical of Grub Street but those most threatening to Pope's professional writing career: "verbal critics" or literary scholars.7 The threat came in the form of the newly emerging critical techniques of philological scholarship. It is my contention that the literary scholars possessed knowledge that Pope showed himself to be desirous of, but that he was incapable of attaining.In this paper I will apply René Girard's mimetic theory both to Pope's relationships with these scholars and to his depiction of them in The Dunciad. The application of Girard's theory helps to explain Pope's motivation in writing, expanding, and obsessing over a poem that was seemingly more trouble than it was worth. The publication history of the poem, which is "exceedingly complicated,"8 "cost [Pope] as much pains as anything [he] ever wrote"9 and brought down an avalanche of ridicule and abuse on him, prompting many to wonder "what can possibly have impelled him to do what he did?"10 This article will go some distance toward answering this question and will also provide insight into the way The Dunciad operated in the service of Pope's attempt to shape the literary culture of early-eighteenth-century England. I will do what no critic to date has yet attempted: I will use Girard's theory to clarify the relationship between Pope's work with the classics and that of his rival classical scholars, and to show how these two threads are woven into his magnum opus, The Dunciad.René Girard's insightful and controversial theory of the nature and origin of human culture may be grouped into three... (shrink)

Spinoza, according to common opinion, could only have written lamentable platitudes on sexual love, narrowly inspired by the prejudices of his time and without serious philosophical foundation: that for which, in the past, he has been congratulated,1 he is now reproached; or, at best, excused. He would even have, some believe to be able to add, increased the pervading puritanism: sexuality, as such, would give rise in him to a deep repulsion and women would horrify him. The second of (...) these two assertions, if one sticks to the manifest content of the texts, actually rests on nothing; if one calls upon their latent content, it would require, to be established with a minimum of rigor, a study of which we will not dispute the theoretical possibility, but which, in fact, has not yet been undertaken. The first, on the other hand, has all the appearance of the obvious: that men love women for their beauty and do not support their attachment to someone else,2 that they desire them more the more admirers they have,3 that the jealousy of the male is exacerbated by the representation of the pudenda and of the excrementa of his rival,4 that sensual attachment is unstable and conflictual,5 that it often turns to obsession,6 that Adam loved Eve because of their similarity of nature,7 that he who remains insensitive to the generosity of a courtesan does not offend by ingratitude,8 that only free men and free women can marry one another and only if they want children,9 well, it seems, that isn’t anything sensational; now these eight passages, if the two definitions of the libido are added to them,10 are the only, if I’m not mistaken, that Spinoza expressly devoted to the question! He would therefore, apparently, only have drawn up a report of deficiency. (shrink)

In a comment on concupscentia, Rahner says that while we may properly draw a distinction between “the spiritual and the sensitive as between two really distinct powers of man,” we must recognize that no human power can be conceived as a “thing.” Given that caution, what would Rahner think of the Freudian “Id”—a word which Freud chose to characterize the nonhuman “it” (thing) at the base of human motivation? Not surprisingly, Rahner says that with the strength of faith we can (...) see in the unconscious “the power of the Holy Ghost.”The essay at hand turns, then, to a significant anti-Freudian theorist, Julia Kristeva, who has developed an extended analysis of the meaningful structures of the psyche prior to the development of self-consciousness in the standard Freudian Oedipal scenario. In contrast to the law of the “castrating” Father who establishes the world of consciousness, of self and other: abstract self-consciousness and abstract signigcation, Kristeva holds out the realm of the Mother in which self andother are “one.” The paradigm of the realm of the Mother is not separation of self and other, but the fusion of self and other in the event of pregnancy. Kristeva’s metaphor of pregnancy is used as a comparison to the relation of God and the human. Prior to the thematic, self-conscious sense of self, there is an ontological relation of God and the human which is the foundation of self.Kristeva’ s realm of the mother constitutes a world of “body language.” The essay concludes with a discussion of the “positivity” of sexuality as body language. In so far as sex leads one back into the body, into “the sensitive” it opens up a realm of meaning that is fatally absent from the abstract self-consciousness produced by the Law of the Father. (shrink)

In a comment on concupscentia, Rahner says that while we may properly draw a distinction between “the spiritual and the sensitive as between two really distinct powers of man,” we must recognize that no human power can be conceived as a “thing.” Given that caution, what would Rahner think of the Freudian “Id”—a word which Freud chose to characterize the nonhuman “it” (thing) at the base of human motivation? Not surprisingly, Rahner says that with the strength of faith we can (...) see in the unconscious “the power of the Holy Ghost.”The essay at hand turns, then, to a significant anti-Freudian theorist, Julia Kristeva, who has developed an extended analysis of the meaningful structures of the psyche prior to the development of self-consciousness in the standard Freudian Oedipal scenario. In contrast to the law of the “castrating” Father who establishes the world of consciousness, of self and other: abstract self-consciousness and abstract signigcation, Kristeva holds out the realm of the Mother in which self andother are “one.” The paradigm of the realm of the Mother is not separation of self and other, but the fusion of self and other in the event of pregnancy. Kristeva’s metaphor of pregnancy is used as a comparison to the relation of God and the human. Prior to the thematic, self-conscious sense of self, there is an ontological relation of God and the human which is the foundation of self.Kristeva’ s realm of the mother constitutes a world of “body language.” The essay concludes with a discussion of the “positivity” of sexuality as body language. In so far as sex leads one back into the body, into “the sensitive” it opens up a realm of meaning that is fatally absent from the abstract self-consciousness produced by the Law of the Father. (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: Ted Bundy and Dennis Rader Psychopaths versus Psychotics The Psychopath Language and the Emotional Brain Empathy, Lack of Shame, Insincerity Fantasies The Serial Killer and Nietzsche.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Cause, Fault, NormJohn Z. Sadler (bio)Keywordscriminality, mental disorder, responsibilityThanks to the commentators for their fine work. In my brief comments I cannot address all that is raised, but can touch upon everyone’s discussion briefly.In her commentary, Gwen Adshead reflects on her experience as a forensic psychiatrist and therapist for violent offenders. Although Adshead discusses a number of important points, I found her insight into why some vices find their (...) way into psychiatric classification particularly compelling and thought provoking. I will here interpret these in my own terms. Dr. Adshead implies that a (perhaps) assumed folk psychology underlies our motivation to classify (as disorder) some, but not all vices. The contribution of this folk psychology does not depend on particular details, but rather, the folk psychology concerns the degree to which the vice–actor’s actions are amenable to explanation, or are transparently understandable or interpretable. We (think we) understand why prostitutes sell themselves and why tax evaders cheat; their folk psychologies are variously constituted by moralistic constructs like desperation, oppression, licentiousness, greed, opportunism, and indignation. In contrast, some offenses step outside our empathic realm: the pedophile, or the serial killer, or even the persistently acting-out child provoke onlookers to wonder, “There has to be something wrong with a person who does that!” “Loud” symptoms in themselves do not qualify; seemingly incomprehensible loud symptoms fit better into the “sick” category. Indeed, in a recent translation of Foucault’s lectures at the College de France, Foucault describes the “monster” as combining “the impossible and the forbidden.” (Foucault 1999, 56) When confronted with the impossible and forbidden, the lust for classification is irresistible.Adshead’s wonderment about the use of “really” to question the explanation of wrongful conduct (what’s “really” going on) leads naturally to Michael First’s discussion. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM)-IV really tries to make a firm distinction between vice and mental disorder, and First describes the DSM approach.Drawing on his experience as the DSM-IV Text Editor, Dr. First provides a particularly lucid presentation of the distinction between what I call “vice” and mental disorder. He supplies vivid examples to illustrate his points. The DSM key for distinguishing disorder from vice is whether “the deviance or conflict is a symptom of a dysfunction in the individual.” As other commentators point out later, First notes that the “vice action” (a term coined by Morse in his own commentary following) may disguise a number of possible explanations: the car thief may simply be seeking thrills and profit, or may be motivated by a delusion—leading to alternative explanations for the behavior. Sometimes the explanation for vice actions are transparent—as in the red Mustang example, but other times they are not so clear. The DSM approach requires the clinician to [End Page 51] make an explanatory claim in order to distinguish the appearance of vice versus the appearance of disorder. I think everyone would agree that an explanation of the phenomenon is required in distinguishing vice from disorder, so that much can be accepted.In my view, the problems with the DSM account are three: (1) The requirement for an internal psychological dysfunction is an easy claim to make for virtually any vice condition. The prostitute’s vice may be attributable to childhood trauma, deviant social learning, pathological desire to sexually control others, and so on. The tax evader may in turn have a pathological resentment of authority combined with a desperate financial situation and a pathological denial and avoidance of paying taxes. Every misbehavior has its psychology, and if we proclaim this psychology is abnormal or deviant, then we have an “internal dysfunction.” Indeed, it is easy to proclaim a psychology as abnormal if it is less than an ideal response to circumstances, or even an adequate response to circumstances; after all, not everyone who is exposed to sexual trauma becomes a prostitute nor does every financially desperate individual cheat on taxes. The DSM’s overinclusiveness on this account defaults to an arbitrariness about what counts as a legitimate (or not) internal dysfunction. Here there will be great argument.(2) First (and later, Wells) admits there... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Epistemological Warfare and Hope in Critical Dystopia by Emrah AtasoyClaire P. CurtisEmrah Atasoy. Epistemological Warfare and Hope in Critical Dystopia. Ankara: Nobel Bilimsel Eserler, 2021. vii+ 167 pp. ISBN: 978-625-7589-04-8This book is an application of the idea of critical dystopia to three understudied novels and the beginning of an argument about utopian desire itself. Emrah Atasoy, a prolific author who reviewed Turkish speculative fiction in a well-received (...) 2021 Utopian Studies article, is modeling a search for hope in dystopian texts. In this book, derived from his dissertation, he examines three British novels written in three different eras of the twentieth century: Katherine Burdekin's Swastika Night (1937), Anthony Burgess's The Wanting Seed (1962), and P. D. James's The Children of Men (1992). In each novel, Atasoy argues, the protagonists move from an ignorance that served the interest of the dystopian forces to a resistant knowledge that should be read as offering hope, both as resistance and as knowledge.The book is organized in a straightforward way, with an introduction, conclusion, and then three analytical chapters, one for each of the novels. The introduction is expansive, offering both brief surveys of the nature of utopia and dystopia and a recounting of a number of themes taken up by dystopian texts: education, politics, gender roles, family life, and more. Layered onto this is a discussion of theorizing around knowledge and power and the transition from ignorance to understanding. The chapters focused on the individual novels are all similarly expansive. Atasoy offers biographical information about the authors along with considerations of the primary social and political events to which the authors might be responding. The analyses of the novels focus primarily on the motivations of the protagonists, but interspersed in the plot summaries are narrative cul-de-sacs explaining particular textual details (for example, the discussion of Theo's choice of the Greek statue of Diadoumenos as allocation to leave a note for the Warden [James, 37]). These [End Page 519] little detours are often interesting but can be distracting from the primary analytic focus.The analyses themselves also cover a lot of territory. The middle section of the chapter on The Children of Men (118–34) includes discussions of power, eugenics, religion, sexuality, punishment, assisted suicide, and immigration. Each of these is used to elucidate modes of social and political control wielded by the Warden, but the sheer number of issues included in the fast-moving analysis left me wanting more. Atasoy's analysis of Quietus nicely captures the ways in which James has created a world where the elderly are both encouraged and manipulated to end their lives for the good of the whole. This discussion fits especially well with the larger focus of his analysis on modes of social engineering. Fewer themes and more close readings like this one would have deepened the reading experience. But for anyone beginning a project on one of these novels, this book is a good place to start.This book begins and ends with the interesting contention that times of catastrophe diminish the literary production of utopia, and potentially the capacity for hope itself. While the point of this book is not to defend this claim empirically, it is one worth considering for any scholar of utopia, or any person interested in the potential of future change for the better. The book may underplay the fact of twentieth-century literary utopias (there is a brief discussion of the feminist utopias written in the 1970s and 1980s), but it is surely correct that there is an imbalance in the production of utopia in favor of dystopia. Utopias are more challenging to construct and potentially (especially in this day and time) less formulaic than dystopia, which is an increasingly popular (and marketable) genre.Kim Stanley Robinson noted in a recent interview that "[utopias] shape people's conception of what's possible that could be good in the future."1 Atasoy's book offers the possibility that a close reading of dystopian texts might well help us uncover other ways of finding out what future good is possible. By extolling the value of finding the... (shrink)

Anger and disgust may have distinct roles in sexual morality; here, we tested hypotheses regarding the distinct foci, appraisals, and motivations of anger and disgust within the context of sexual offenses. We conducted four experiments in which we manipulated whether mutual consent (Studies 1–3) or desire (Study 4) was present or absent within a counter-normative sexual act. We found that anger is focused on the injustice of non-consensual sexual acts, and the transgressor of the injustice (...) (Studies 1 and 3). Furthermore, the sexual nature of the act was not critical for the elicitation of anger—as anger also responded to unjust acts of violence (Study 3). By contrast, we hypothesised and found that disgust is focused on whether or not a person voluntarily engaged in, desired or consented to a counter-normative sexual act (Studies 2–4). Appraisals of abnormality and degradation were the primary appraisals of disgust, and the sexual nature of the act was a critical elicitor of disgust (Study 3). A final study ruled out victimisation as the mechanism of the effect of consent on disgust and indicated that the consenter's sexual desire was the mechanism (Study 4). Our results reveal that anger and disgust have differential roles in consent-related sexual offenses due to the distinct appraisals and foci of these emotions. (shrink)

Chapter VI is an extended sketch of Plato 's psychological theory found in the Republic, especially Book IV. Plato, unlike Socrates, distinguishes among three kinds of desire, corresponding to the three parts of the soul. Plato, however, still agrees with Socrates that all desires are belief-dependent. Furthermore, because Plato is much clearer than Socrates about the nature of goods, he is able to distinguish among three distinct kinds of beliefs about what is good. So Plato also agrees with Socrates (...) that all desires are for the good, if we speak properly of what is believed to be good. The picture of Plato 's views that emerges in this study is a fundamentally Socratic one and a development of Socratic psychology. This picture is somewhat contrary to what recent commentators have claimed about how the positions of Socrates and Plato are related. Plato, it is said, rejects the Socratic proposal about desire and its role in human motivation. It is argued in this study, however, that such a view rests upon certain misconceptions of both the Socratic and Platonic positions. ;This study has the following structure. Chapter I discusses the methodology of this dissertation and the chronology of Plato 's dialogues. Chapters II-V develop the central features of Socratic psychology. In chapter II, we establish that virtue is a craft. This is particularly important because, unlike other Socratic crafts which are merely cognitive, virtue has affective characteristics also. Virtue, moreover, aims at producing goods. Chapter III examines the nature of Socratic desire. We argue by examining both linguistic evidence and texts where there is some suggestion to the contrary that Socrates does not distinguish among kinds of desire. It is also shown that desire has two key features for Socrates. All desire is belief-dependent and, in particular, involves beliefs about what is good. Because of these features, chapter IV is concerned with the Socratic analysis of the structure of goods. We find in such dialogues as the Lysis, Euthydemus, Gorgias, and Meno a record of some confusion about the nature of goods. Finally in chapter V, we show how Socrates applies his account of desire to problems in philosophical psychology. He holds that knowledge is necessary and sufficient, not only to achieve a certain psychological state, but also for certain kinds of action. He provides an alternative explanation for what is commonly held to be weakness of will. There are also suggestions which we explore that Socrates has original views, deriving from his account of desire, about the nature of action and psychological freedom. ;Both Socrates and Plato attempt to demonstrate that moral behavior is rational, by grounding it in the structure of human wants. This study examines the accounts of desire to which they appeal and shows how desire so conceived is related both to human rationality and to human motivation. Much of what is said here bears upon ethical questions, but our principal concern is not ethics, but moral psychology--the psychological underpinnings for the Socratic and Platonic ethical views. (shrink)

In this article, I discuss a relatively recent development of Russian interest in Kyiv as a place with symbolic and historical significance for Russian history, which makes it a desirable target in an ongoing war. I trace the changing attitude of Russian travelers towards Kyiv’s history from the mid-eighteenth to the early nineteenth century. Earlier generations of visitors came to Kyiv primarily to visit holy places, with no knowledge of the city’s historical significance, and because it was a more affordable (...) alternative to travel abroad. However, at the end of the eighteenth century, after Catherine II’s royal visit, the publication of guidebooks, and the ascend of history as a discipline, and interest among Russian educated elites, Kyiv’s past became an obsession for many Russian travelers. Their travel accounts were motivated by a search for the past glory of Kyiv. For Russian travelers and authorities, history became one of the key means of appropriation of Kyiv, with a new generation of travelers searching for material evidence connecting Kyivan Rus to the Russian past. However, they were unable to find much material evidence and often used their imagination to present Kyiv as a site of Kyivan Rus history, ignoring the city’s non[1]Russian heritage. (shrink)

Psychological altruism (being motivated by the needs of others) has a tendency to produce behaviour that is costly in evolutionary terms. How, then, could the capacity for psychological altruism evolve? One suggestion is that it is the result of sexual selection. There are, however, two problems that face such an account: first, it is not clear that the resulting behaviour would be altruistic in the relevant sense, and second, it does not seem to fit with key features of (...) our actual helping behaviour. I will argue that both of these problems can be avoided if we adopt a modular account of desire formation. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Eating Disorders and Mimetic Desire René Girard Stanford University Among younger women, eating disorders are reaching epidemic proportions. The most widespread and spectacular at this moment is the most recently identified, the so-called bulimia nervosa, characterized by binge eating followed by "purging," sometimes through laxatives or diuretics, more often through self-induced vomiting. Some researchers claim that, in American colleges, at least one third of the female student population (...) is involved to some degree. (Since nine out of ten sufferers are women I will use feminine pronouns in this paper but some undergraduates at Stanford tell me that the epidemic is spreading to male students.) G.M.F. Russell, the first researcher who focused on the specific aspects ofmodern bulimia, is usually presented as the discoverer of a new illness. The title ofhis 1979 publication contradicts this view: "Bulimia Nervosa: An Ominous Variant ofAnorexiaNervosa." And, indeed, all the symptoms he describes had been mentioned before in connection with anorexia (see Bruch). The insurance companies and the medical profession like only welldefined illnesses, and so does the public. We all try to distance ourselves from pathological contamination by giving it a name. Eating disorders are often discussed as ifthey were new varieties ofmeasles or oftyphoid fever. Why distrust the distinction between two illnesses with symptoms as radically opposed as those of anorexia and bulimia? Because we live in a world where eating too much and not eating enough are opposite but inseparable ways ofcoping with the slenderness imperative that dominates 2 René Girard our collective imaginations. Most of us oscillate all our lives between attenuated forms ofthese two pathologies. The man in the street understands perfectly a truth that most specialists prefer not to confront. Our eating disorders are caused by our compulsive desire to lose weight. Most books on the subject acknowledge the universal calorie phobia but somewhat absent-mindedly, as if it could not be the major cause ofa serious illness. How could a fundamentally healthy desire become the cause ofpathological behavior, even ofdeath? Many people would be healthier, no doubt, ifthey ate less. In view of this fact, it is not illogical to suppose that, in anorexia, there must be some motivation other than this healthy desire, some unconscious drive, no doubt, that generates abnormal behavior. By turning anorexia and bulimia into two separate pathologies, the classificators make it easier for us to lose sight of their common basis. The bankruptcy of modern theories The search for hidden motivations is the alpha and omega, ofcourse, of our modern culture. Our number one principle is that no human phenomenon is really what it seems to be. A satisfactory interpretation must rely on one of the hermeneutics of suspicion that have become popular in the nineteenth and twentieth century, or on several ofthese, on a cocktail of soupçon: psychoanalysis, Marxism, feminism, etc. We automatically assume that social phenomena have little if anything to do with what is obvious in them, in this case the rejection offood. In anorexia, psychoanalysts usually diagnose "a refusal of normal sexuality," due to the patient's excessive desire "to please her father," etc. These explanations are still invoked in books being written right now but the voice is growing fainter. Around this sort of thing the smell of mustiness is overpowering. Even in Lacan's own land, the old arrogance is gone. Early in my life, I had an opportunity to observe that the eating practices ofyoung women have nothing to do with a desire to please their fathers. Just before World War II, a pretty cousin of mine was dieting furiously and her father, my uncle, was storming about helplessly, trying to get her to eat more. Fathers, as a rule, are not pleased to see their daughters starve themselves. This particular father was also a physician, at a time when the medical profession had not yet caught the disease it was already trying to cure. Eating Disorders andMimetic Desire3 This uncle was our family doctor and, as such, had great prestige in my eyes, at least until that day. I had not yet read Freud but my later skepticism regarding his conception offatherhood may well originate in this incident. I immediately... (shrink)

A dazzling treatise, as erudite and eloquent as Simone de Beauvoir's The Second Sex and considerably more sound in its conclusion - TLS "He is an eloquent and practised writer" - The Independent (UK) When John desires Mary or Mary desires John, what does either of them want? What is meant by innocence, passion, love and arousal, desire, perversion and shame? These are just a few of the questions Roger Scruton addresses in this thought-provoking intellectual adventure. Beginning from purely (...) philosophical premises, and ranging over human life, art and institutions, he surveys the entire field of sexuality; equally dissatisfied with puritanism and permissiveness, he argues for a radical break with recent theories. Upholding traditional morality - though in terms that may shock many of its practitioners - his argument gravitates to that which is candid, serene and consoling in the experience of sexual love. (shrink)

Are sexual orientations freely chosen? The idea that someone’s sexual orientation is not a choice is very influential in the mainstream LGBT political movement. But do we have good reasons to believe it is not a choice? Going against the orthodoxy, William Wilkerson has recently argued that sexual orientation is partly constituted by our interpretations of our own sexual desires, and we choose these interpretations, so sexual orientation is partly constituted by choice. In this paper (...) I aim to examine the question of whether our interpretations of our own sexual desires are constitutive of our sexual orientations. I will argue that whereas Wilkerson’s argument for the claim that sexual orientations are in part constituted by our chosen interpretations of our sexual desires is not sound, there are good reasons for endorsing a weaker claim, namely, that there are different but equally apt descriptions of the same sexual desires, depending on which concepts we have. (shrink)

Perhaps the foremost issue in the emerging area of inquiry known as lesbian and gay studies is the social constructionist controversy. Social constructionism is the view that the categories of sexual orientation are cultural constructs rather than naturally universal categories. ____Forms of Desire__ brings together important essays by social constructionists and their critics, representing several disciplines and approaches to this debate about the history and science of sexuality.

Perhaps the foremost issue in the emerging area of inquiry known as lesbian and gay studies is the social constructionist controversy. Social constructionism is the view that the categories of sexual orientation are cultural constructs rather than naturally universal categories. ____Forms of Desire__ brings together important essays by social constructionists and their critics, representing several disciplines and approaches to this debate about the history and science of sexuality.

From Odysseus' seduction by the song of the Sirens to Oscar Moore's 1991 novel A Matter of Life and Sex , whose protagonist courts death through sex and dies of AIDS, the frustrated relationship between death and desire has fixated the Western imagination. Philosophers have grappled with it and poets have told of its beauty and pain. In this strikingly original work, cultural critic Jonathan Dollimore once again demonstrates his remarkable ability to take on the complex and reveal its (...) relevance with eloquence and grace. Death, Desire and Loss in Western Culture is a rich testament to our ubiquitous preoccupation with the tangled web of death and desire. In these pages we find nuanced analysis that blends Plato with Shelley, Hölderlin with Foucault. Dollimore, a gifted thinker, is not content to summarize these texts from afar; instead, he weaves a thread through each to tell the magnificent story of the making of the modern individual. An immensely important book, Death, Desire and Loss in Western Culture is a challenge to the way we understand desire, sexuality, and the very notion of identity. (shrink)

The eighteenth‑century English writer Matthew Gregory Lewis wrote one of the most dramatic Gothic novels, The Monk; over 200 years later, a film of the same name appeared, based on the novel and directed by Dominik Moll. The film, a free adaptation of the book, presenting the story of the moral downfall of the monk Ambrosio, has inspired us to philosophical reflections on sexuality, sensuality, and physical desire. We have attempted to analyze and interpret this cinematic work of art (...) in the context of these issues. The method we have adopted is based on a thorough discussion of the topics developed in the film and related issues. This method, while not pretending to be scientific objective, enables us to outline an interesting field of research as well as to identify a number of theoretical problems and questions that remain open. The formula we have adopted is to quote lines from the film The Monk which permits the analysis of selected issues related to sexuality, sensuality, and physical desire. Moreover, these quotes serve to order the text and enable the precise identification of interpretive trains of thought. (shrink)

The ethics and moral psychology of the Phaedo crucially depend on claims made uniquely about bodily desire. This paper offers an analysis and defense of the account of bodily desire in the dialogue, arguing that bodily desires – desires with their source in processes or conditions of the body – are characterized by three features: motivational pull, assertoric force, and intensity. Desires with these features target the soul’s rational functions with distinctive forms of imprisonment. They target the soul’s (...) capacity to rule with servility; and they target the soul’s capacity for knowledge with confinement in the visible world. (shrink)

Desire and Motivation in Indian Philosophy. By Christopher G. Framarin. Routledge Hindu Studies Series. London: Routledge, 2009. Pp. xv + 196. $170 ; $44.95.

A study involving purchasing managers was conducted to test specific Hunt-Vitell theoretical propositions concerning the determinants of managers' teleological evaluations. We extended the Hunt-Vitell model by developing a new integrative construct, namely the desirability of consequences to self versus others. We hypothesized that desirability of consequences affects teleological evaluations in that the more desirable the consequences of a particular action, the more likely managers evaluate that action positively. The results of the present study provided support for this hypothesis. Furthermore, we (...) extended the Hunt-Vitell model by developing a new integrative construct, namely the desirability of consequences of self versus others. We hypothesized that cognitive moral development moderates the relationship between the desirability of consequences of self versus others and teleological evaluation. The results failed to support this hypothesis. We explained the lack of support in terms of the level of aggregation of the data, the possibility of the confounding effect of respondents' sensitivity to ethical issues, and the possibility that deontological evaluations confounded the respondents' teleological judgments. Future research and managerial implications of the findings were also discussed. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:DESIRED POSSESSIONS: KARL POLANYI, RENÉ GIRARD, AND THE CRITIQUE OF THE MARKET ECONOMY Mark R. Anspach CREA, Paris! f '""phe most radical critique of liberal capitalism ever:" that is how JL Louis Dumont describes 7Ae Great Transformation, Karl Polanyi's classic work on the rise of the market system. But the French anthropologist goes on to observe that, when one confronts this same critique with the ethnography of tribal societies, (...) "one may ask whether Polanyi did not in fact come up short; having criticized the economy as an idea, he thought he could retain it as a thing..." (Dumont xiv, xvi). Is the economy indeed a "thing" that has always existed in some form everywhere, and if so, what manner of thing is it? In a word, what is an economyfor? Is there a particular aim that any economy must serve? A specific motive that it necessarily brings into play? We will begin by looking at Polanyi's answer to this question. "No human motive is per se economic," Polanyi tells us. "There is no such thing as a sui generis economic experience in the sense in which man may have a religious, aesthetic, or sexual experience." It is market society, with its dependence on a disembedded economic system, which fosters the illusion that the "economic" motives of hunger and gain necessarily underlie every economic system (1968, 63-4). In reality, however, "human beings will labor for a large variety of reasons as long as things are arranged accordingly." For example, "Monks traded for religious reasons... The KuIa trade ofthe Trobriand islanders... is mainly an aesthetic pursuit. Feudal economy was run on customary lines. With the Kwakiutl," industry appears to have been "a point of honor," and 1 82Mark R. Anspach so on (1968, 68). The trick, it seems, is to "arrange things accordingly." An economic system can be "run on noneconomic motives," Polanyi explains, without linking the process of production or distribution "to specific economic interests attached to the possession of goods," as long as "every single step in that process is geared to a number of social interests which eventually ensure that the required step be taken" (2001, 48). Now, there is a danger in this presentation. It could lead a reader to conclude that other societies arrange things cunningly so that all these social interests are harnessed to ensure the performance of the steps necessary to economic processes in a kind ofelaborate ruse—a ruse which the out-in-the-open operation ofthe economy in our society gives us the ability to see through. Very well, such a reader might acknowledge, the economy is an "instituted process," and, yes, the act of instituting it "shifts the place ofthe process in society" (Polanyi 1968, 148), but ifyou track it down to its hiding place and strip away the social contrivances in which it has been embedded, what you will find is still the economy as we know it—indeed, the economy which market society alone lays bare. In this reading, or rather misreading, the "real" economic aims that market society achieves directly are elsewhere accomplished only in the most cumbersomely indirect fashion. This kind of erroneous conclusion will likely be difficult to counter as long as one posits an opposition between multiple, variable and diffuse social interests, on the one hand, and the apparently straightforward individual interest in the possession of goods, on the other. Wherever the economy is submerged in social relationships, Polanyi says, a man "does not act so as to safeguard his individual interest in the possession ofmaterial goods; he acts so as to safeguard his social standing, his social claims, his social assets" (2001, 48). The problem with such an opposition between individual and social is that a market-minded theorist can overcome it simply by broadening the individual interest in the possession ofgoods to include the possession ofreified social goods. Once social interests are conceptualized as "social assets," to use Polanyi's own expression—or as "symbolic capital," to cite a more recent formulation—they lend themselves to "economizing" even in the formal sense, and Polanyi's carefully constructed distinction between the substantive and the formal collapses, apparently confirmingthe universality of the market... (shrink)

The aim of this paper is to give a critical discussion of Sartre’s concept of sexual desire and its relation to self-identity and freedom. Why Sartre? Sartre is one of very few philosophers who offers a systematic account of sexual desire. He has influenced eminent philosophical concepts of sexual desire held by, for instance, de Beauvoir, Lacan, Foucault, Levinas, Irigaray and Butler, but not much is written about his own notion of sexual (...) class='Hi'>desire. This alone is reason to explore Sartre’s view. What makes his view of sexual desire particularly interesting is that it is framed by his theory of freedom. Sartre offers the original, radical notion that freedom is absolute. Because consciousness is never self-identical, he argues, human identity is not fixed. Instead, we are consequently nothing else but what we keep desiring to make of ourselves. He concludes that we are always free to choose our drives and desires, even what seem to be our most enslaving, natural sexual instincts. The question raised in this article, however, concerns what the nature of sexual desire is and how free we really are to choose our sexual desires. I first contextualise Sartre’s view of sexual desire within his notion of desire in general and its relation to instinct, drive, consciousness, freedom and identity. Then, I give a detailed discussion of his analysis of sexual desire, its relation to freedom, and, what Sartre calls its failures. Finally, I discuss a critique of, and alternative to, Sartre’s theory of sexual desire from the perspective of my own notion of heteronomous and autonomous desire and freedom. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Eating Disorders and Mimetic Desire René Girard Stanford University Among younger women, eating disorders are reaching epidemic proportions. The most widespread and spectacular at this moment is the most recently identified, the so-called bulimia nervosa, characterized by binge eating followed by "purging," sometimes through laxatives or diuretics, more often through self-induced vomiting. Some researchers claim that, in American colleges, at least one third of the female student population (...) is involved to some degree. (Since nine out of ten sufferers are women I will use feminine pronouns in this paper but some undergraduates at Stanford tell me that the epidemic is spreading to male students.) G.M.F. Russell, the first researcher who focused on the specific aspects ofmodern bulimia, is usually presented as the discoverer of a new illness. The title ofhis 1979 publication contradicts this view: "Bulimia Nervosa: An Ominous Variant ofAnorexiaNervosa." And, indeed, all the symptoms he describes had been mentioned before in connection with anorexia (see Bruch). The insurance companies and the medical profession like only welldefined illnesses, and so does the public. We all try to distance ourselves from pathological contamination by giving it a name. Eating disorders are often discussed as ifthey were new varieties ofmeasles or oftyphoid fever. Why distrust the distinction between two illnesses with symptoms as radically opposed as those of anorexia and bulimia? Because we live in a world where eating too much and not eating enough are opposite but inseparable ways ofcoping with the slenderness imperative that dominates 2 René Girard our collective imaginations. Most of us oscillate all our lives between attenuated forms ofthese two pathologies. The man in the street understands perfectly a truth that most specialists prefer not to confront. Our eating disorders are caused by our compulsive desire to lose weight. Most books on the subject acknowledge the universal calorie phobia but somewhat absent-mindedly, as if it could not be the major cause ofa serious illness. How could a fundamentally healthy desire become the cause ofpathological behavior, even ofdeath? Many people would be healthier, no doubt, ifthey ate less. In view of this fact, it is not illogical to suppose that, in anorexia, there must be some motivation other than this healthy desire, some unconscious drive, no doubt, that generates abnormal behavior. By turning anorexia and bulimia into two separate pathologies, the classificators make it easier for us to lose sight of their common basis. The bankruptcy of modern theories The search for hidden motivations is the alpha and omega, ofcourse, of our modern culture. Our number one principle is that no human phenomenon is really what it seems to be. A satisfactory interpretation must rely on one of the hermeneutics of suspicion that have become popular in the nineteenth and twentieth century, or on several ofthese, on a cocktail of soupçon: psychoanalysis, Marxism, feminism, etc. We automatically assume that social phenomena have little if anything to do with what is obvious in them, in this case the rejection offood. In anorexia, psychoanalysts usually diagnose "a refusal of normal sexuality," due to the patient's excessive desire "to please her father," etc. These explanations are still invoked in books being written right now but the voice is growing fainter. Around this sort of thing the smell of mustiness is overpowering. Even in Lacan's own land, the old arrogance is gone. Early in my life, I had an opportunity to observe that the eating practices ofyoung women have nothing to do with a desire to please their fathers. Just before World War II, a pretty cousin of mine was dieting furiously and her father, my uncle, was storming about helplessly, trying to get her to eat more. Fathers, as a rule, are not pleased to see their daughters starve themselves. This particular father was also a physician, at a time when the medical profession had not yet caught the disease it was already trying to cure. Eating Disorders andMimetic Desire3 This uncle was our family doctor and, as such, had great prestige in my eyes, at least until that day. I had not yet read Freud but my later skepticism regarding his conception offatherhood may well originate in this incident. I immediately... (shrink)

The study of rationality and practical reason, or rationality in action, has been central to Western intellectual culture. In this invigorating book, John Searle lays out six claims of what he calls the Classical Model of rationality and shows why they are false. He then presents an alternative theory of the role of rationality in thought and action. A central point of Searle's theory is that only irrational actions are directly caused by beliefs and desires—for example, the actions of a (...) person in the grip of an obsession or addiction. In most cases of rational action, there is a gap between the motivating desire and the actual decision making. The traditional name for this gap is "freedom of the will." According to Searle, all rational activity presupposes free will. For rationality is possible only where one has a choice among various rational as well as irrational options. Unlike many philosophical tracts, Rationality in Action invites the reader to apply the author's ideas to everyday life. Searle shows, for example, that contrary to the traditional philosophical view, weakness of will is very common. He also points out the absurdity of the claim that rational decision making always starts from a consistent set of desires. Rational decision making, he argues, is often about choosing between conflicting reasons for action. In fact, humans are distinguished by their ability to be rationally motivated by desire-independent reasons for action. Extending his theory of rationality to the self, Searle shows how rational deliberation presupposes an irreducible notion of the self. He also reveals the idea of free will to be essentially a thesis of how the brain works. (shrink)

Research from psychology, neurobiology and behavioral economics indicates that a binary view of motivation, based on approach and avoidance, may be too reductive. Instead, a literature review suggests that at least seven distinct motives are likely to affect human decisions: “consumption/resource seeking,” “care,” “affiliation,” “achievement,” “status-power,” “threat approach” (or anger), and “threat avoidance” (or fear). To explore the conceptual distinctness and relatedness of these motives, we conducted a semantic categorization task. Here, participants were to assign provided words to one of (...) the motives. By applying principal component analysis to the categorization assignments we represent the semantic inter-relations of these motives on a two-dimensional space, a “semantic atlas.” This atlas suggests that, while care and affiliation are conceptually close, affiliation is closer to threat avoidance (or fear); opposite to these motives we find achievement, consumption and power, with the latter lying closer to threat approach (or anger). In a second study, we asked participants to rate how well the motive-specific words obtained in the first study described their currently experienced feelings. We find that semantically close motives are also more likely to be experienced together, that is, we replicate most of the semantic relations in the “subjective atlas.” We discuss our findings in comparison to other multi-dimensional models of motivation, which show clear similarities. In addition to these motivational atlases, we provide a database of motive-specific words, together with the valence and arousal scores. These can be used for future research on the influence of motives on decision making. (shrink)

Judgement internalism claims that our evaluative judgements will motivate us to act appropriately, at least in so far as we are rational. I examine how this claim should be understood, with particular focus on whether valuing enjoys a kind of 'normative priority' over desiring. I consider and reject views according to which valuing something provides one with a reason to be moved; this claim of normative priority and the readings of internalism it suggests are too strong. I also reject an (...) interpretation which eschews claims of normative priority, whilst maintaining that valuing nevertheless rationally commits or requires one to be motivated; this rejection of normative priority and the reading of internalism it supports are too weak. In the final sections I sketch the understanding of judgement internalism I favour, and defend it against objections. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Varieties of Vernacular Mysticism (1350–1550) by Bernard McGinnDennis J. Billy C.Ss.R.The Varieties of Vernacular Mysticism (1350–1550). By Bernard McGinn. New York: Crossroad, 2012. Pp. xiv + 721. $70.00 (cloth). ISBN: 978-0-8245-9901-0.This fifth volume of McGinn’s Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism covers the Dutch, Italian, and English vernacular mystics of the late Middle Ages. In previous volumes, the author treated the Foundations (vol. 1), (...) Growth (vol. 2), Flowering (vol. 3), and Harvest (vol. 4) of Western Christian mysticism from its roots in the Jewish matrix and the Greek ideal to its fruition in the German vernacular writings of Meister Eckhart and his students. In this latest volume, he continues his history of Western Christian mysticism by focusing on varieties of vernacular mysticism in the Low Countries, Italy, and England from 1350 to 1550.Conscious of the dangers of historical periodization and regional classification, as well as the relationship of mysticism to the greater ecclesiastical world, McGinn takes pains to show the distinctive character of each mystic under consideration, while at the same time pointing out appropriate parallels with Western and Eastern Christian mystics from past historical epochs and those contemporary voices from both within and [End Page 476] without each mystic’s linguistic region. In his preface, he apologizes to his readers for the long gestation of the present volume and offers a brief account of how his original plan of writing a three-volume history of Western Christian mysticism evolved into a series of seven, due in large part to the sheer wealth of sources and his desire to give them a thorough treatment. Rather than following his original intention of including other vernacular traditions in his previous volume on German mysticism, he wisely chose to devote an entire volume to these other important strands (ix–x).Instead of writing a general introduction to the volume, McGinn decides to give a brief introduction to each of the three major parts. He divides his work into thirteen chapters constructed along the following lines: (1) “Late Medieval Mysticism in the Low Countries” (chaps. 1–5), (2) “Mysticism in Late Medieval Italy” (chaps. 6–9), and (3) “Mysticism in Late Medieval England” (chaps. 10–13). The volume closes with a brief conclusion (491–94), extended annotations (495–661), an extensive bibliography (662–704), and indices for Scripture references (705–6), names (707–12), and subjects (713–21). The book’s organization reflects the theme of diversity highlighted in its title. Although each part has its own internal structure and stands on its own as a survey of the material at hand, it also fits well into the volume’s overall plan of pointing out the distinctiveness and great variety of the vernacular mysticisms produced during this period. Taken individually, each part can be considered a probing monograph on the vernacular mysticism in each region. Taken together, the parts offer a unique glimpse into the mystic and literary creativity that sets this period apart as one of the most fertile periods in the history of Christian mysticism.In part 1, “Late Medieval Mysticism in the Low Countries,” McGinn notes that “the period ca. 1350 to ca. 1550 is the central era for Dutch mysticism” and “witnessed a florescence of mystical authors writing in the Dutch-Flemish language” (1). Although he hesitates to refer to a Dutch “school” of mysticism and thinks that “Ruusbroec should not be made the yardstick by which all later Dutch mystics are measured,” he has no reservations about considering him “a gravitational center in the history of Dutch mysticism” (2). This section of the book begins with an in-depth look at the mystical writings of Jan van Ruusbroec (1293–1381) (chap. 1) and continues with a study of Goenendaal mysticism after Ruusbroec (chap. 2). It then turns to a treatment of the mystical aspects of the Devotio Moderna, with a special emphasis on The Imitation of Christ and some vernacular mystics numbered among the Devout, such as Hendrik Mande (ca. 1360–1431, Gerlach Peters (ca. 1375–1411), and Alijt Bake (1415–55), and adds a brief note on the nominalistic... (shrink)

This article examines the recent trial of ANC president Jacob Zuma, and how gender power was framed in respect to, and within, the politics of culture. The trial centred on allegations of rape by Zuma of an HIV positive woman many years his junior, who was also the daughter of a former anti-apartheid struggle comrade. All of these details were considered pertinent, not only to the legal debates about whether a crime had been committed, but also to the political debates (...) raging around the nation's key challenges of high rates of sexual violence and the 'denialist' state response to devastating levels of HIV infection. Many Zuma supporters saw the accusation of rape as politically motivated and as evidence of an anti-Zuma conspiracy. In visibly smaller numbers, women's rights groups were present on the streets as well, trying to draw attention to the general problem of the nation's extraordinarily high rates of sexual violence and the general failure of the justice system to address cases of rape. The article argues that the fervour surrounding this trial, the burning political question of women's status was continually cast as a private matter: debates about relations between men and women came to be focused on issues of propriety, behaviour and etiquette rather than on questions about rights and power. In short, the privatisation of gender was effected through the politics of culture. As culture is politicised as a legal and secular 'right', gender is de-politicised to become a normatively 'private' and 'customary' domain. This is not merely a South African dilemma, but a dilemma which is con-concomitant to the social conditions of modernity itself. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:ABORTION AS A SACRAMENT: MIMETIC DESIRE AND SACRIFICE IN SEXUAL POLITICS Bernadette Waterman Ward SUNY-Oswego "If men got pregnant, abortion would be a sacrament." That familiar taunt is mostly aimed at Roman Catholics to humiliate them for their purportedly religious and anti-rational opposition to abortion. It is conventional to sniffthat the "religious assumptions" on which disapproval of abortion is "typically based" are "highly questionable" (Chambers 1). But (...) the cultural theories of René Girard suggest that it is because men don't get pregnant that abortion already is a sacrament. The key elements of sacrificial religion, as Girard defines it, are the presence of intolerable tension that must lead to social disruption; the choice of a victim who cannot strike back to absorb the community's violence; and the concealment ofthe function ofthe sacrifice, which employs actual violence for the purpose of stabilizing institutional violence. Abortion in America is upheld not as medical or even political policy, but as, in fact, a religious sacrifice. Girard's definition ofreligion requires neither a moral code nor a divinity nor a metaphysical grounding. The cult of Dionysus, to name only one example, evidently endorsed nothing we would recognize as a general code of morality; Buddhism, a far more august example, does not focus on a divinity; animism proposes no universal metaphysics. As to sacraments, Bernadette Waterman Ward19 Thomas Aquinas, following St. Augustine, did not scruple to call nonChristian sacrifices sacraments oftheir religions, "Whether true or false."' Scapegoating defines religious sacrifice. It protects the sacrificing community and promotes its unity—so long as all believe that the scapegoat must suffer. Often the victim is called an enemy to some established order; sacrifice is always conservative, even if it upholds an inherently unstable system. Because powerlessness, not real disruptive power, is the criterion for becoming a scapegoat, sacrifice requires a strong shared illusion. Classical religions provide unopposable gods to choose the tragically necessary victims, allowing strong ambivalence to surround the sacrifice itself. Ifthis is not present, the death or banishment takes on a different character—more political than religious, though Girard notes a fundamental unity between those two methods ofcontrolling mimetic violence. Mimetic violence originates in illusion surrounding a rivalry. Often there is an object involved, such as territory or wealth or political rank, but the object, which seems important, is actually irrelevant. The rivalry can continue, seeking new objects, whatever concrete acquisitions either party makes or loses. General, aimless rivalry dominates a social world of fragile, undefined selves in which anyone can be a model for imitation, and therefore anyone can be a threat to one's sense ofself. What an imitator actually seeks is to have whatever is desirable; most desirable ofall, perhaps, is the ability to know what is desirable, a mysterious quality that is constantly attributed to others; Girard calls this quality "being." From the nursery we are each other's disciples, wanting each other's toys not because of their inherent virtue so much as because someone else has seen some virtue in them. As human desire has no real single object, it has no closure; envy and revenge threaten others in a widening net of destruction. In the classic scenario, the model whose "being" has become matter for imitation finds himself in competition for the object, and attacks the rival, who returns in kind. A disciple who can rally aspire to the model's status can become a dangerous, even a deadly rival; in imagination, and sometimes in reality, they turn each other intp monsters. Yet as the desire has no single object, neither has the rage: the violence can be easily transferred to another object than one's rival. Sometimes those who are uneasy about their status in relation to one another can cement a powerful unity by focusing blame on some common target: a scapegoat. The Orwellian scenario is in fact the normal scenario: individuals caught in the maelstrom of social instability 'Summa Theologiae, 3a.61.1 31. 20Abortion as a Sacrament seek to avoid victimization by diverting the violence into blame and destruction directed, first of all, against someone else—and, if possible, against someone who cannot strike back: a sacrifice. Not all sacrificial religious... (shrink)

ABSTRACT:Practical wisdom has received scant attention in business ethics. Defined as a disposition toward cleverness in crafting morally excellent responses to, or in anticipation of, challenging particularities, practical wisdom has four psychological components: knowledge, emotion, thinking, and motivation. People's experience, reflection, and inspiration are theorized to determine their capacity for practical wisdom-related performance. Enhanced by their abilities to engage in moral imagination, systems thinking, and ethical reframing, this capacity is realized in the form of wisdom-related performance. This can be manifested (...) either in wise business decisions or through their performance as mentors, advice givers, or dispute handlers. (shrink)

I begin by describing the hideous nature of sexuality, that which makes sexual desire and activity morally suspicious, or at least what we have been told about the moral foulness of sex by, in particular, Immanuel Kant, but also by some of his predecessors and by some contemporary philosophers.2 A problem arises because acting on sexual desire, given this Kantian account of sex, apparently conflicts with the Categorical Imperative. I then propose a typology of possible solutions (...) to this sex problem and critically discuss recent philosophical ethics of sex that fall into the typology's various categories. (shrink)

This paper provides evidence for the following novel insights: (1) People’s economic decisions depend on their psychological motives, which are shaped predictably by the social context. (2) In particular, the social context influences people’s other-regarding preferences, their beliefs and their perceptions. (3) The influence of the social context on psychological motives can be measured experimentally by priming two antagonistic motives—care and anger—in one player towards another by means of an observance or a violation of a fairness norm. Using a mediation (...) approach, we find that the care motive leads to higher levels of cooperation which are driven by more optimistic beliefs, a different perception of the game as well as by a shift towards more pro-social preferences. (shrink)

The autonomous person is one who has, in some sense, mastery over their desires. The prevailing way to understand such personal autonomy is in terms of a hierarchy of desires. For Harry Frankfurt, persons not only have first-order desires, but possess the additional capacity to form second-order desires. Second-order desires are formed through reflection on first-order desires and are thus expressive of the rational capacity which is characteristic of persons. Frankfurt's account of freedom of the will is founded on his (...) analysis of persons. It is only because persons possess second-order desires, resulting from their capacity for rational evaluation of first-order desires, that persons (and not those Frankfurt calls 'wantons') are well placed to possess freedom of will. Various objections have been raised in the literature against such second-order desire accounts of freedom of the will or autonomy. In my article, I raise the problem of instrumental second-order desires. I discuss the forms instrumental second-order desires can take and attempt to show that these cannot be the second-order desires that Frankfurt has in mind in his account. I then extend my critique by looking at non-instrumental second-order desires. I consider various forms which non-instrumental second-order desires can take and advance the argument that Frankfurt cannot have second-order desires such as these in mind either. Finally, I note that none of the suggestions considered will deliver a second-order desire account of autonomy, and that it is baffling just what Frankfurt does have in mind. (shrink)

One major theme in Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclical Caritas in Veritate is the “Principle of Gratuitousness.” The point of this essay is to begin a reflection on what it actually means and its possible relevance. By comparing the “Principle of Gratuitousness” and its normative assumptions about “the logic of gift” with anthropological studies focused on the same phenomenon, I hope to show, not only the relevance of the encyclical’s normative vision but also where and how it needs further clarification. The (...) findings of empirical anthropology provide qualified support for the encyclical’s focus on generating and replenishing “social capital” in order to sustain both markets and politics in an effort to “civilize the economy.” In order to put the “Principle of Gratuitousness” into more effective practice, the encyclical highlights the creative role of “civil society” and calls for the creation social enterprises whose goals are broader and deeper than maximizing profits. Assessing the realism of Benedict’s proposal will require further research and reflection on innovative entrepreneurial ventures designed to address social problems on a commercial basis, for example, Muhammad Yunus’ concept of a “social business” and its development in a series of joint business ventures involving the Grameen Bank and related organizations. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:"'Twas Nature Gnaw'd Them to This Resolution":Byron's Poetry and Mimetic DesireIan Dennis (bio)1. IntroductionWe all know Lord Byron, I presume. Know him as a paradigmatic object of cultural desire, as the quintessentially romantic individualist whose haughtily transgressive rejection of his society turned him into one of its most compelling models and objects, the endlessly provocative rival of a multitude of young men to follow—and they are still (...) following—all to differing degrees blind to or writhing in the anxieties of his influence. I myself belong to that somewhat smaller group that actually reads his poetry.Having passed through the little deification of celebrity, Byron was on something of a downslope of fame, and knew it, before he put the matter past all doubt by dying almost-young for liberty in Greece in 1824. Perhaps not surprisingly, given all this, he developed into something of an expert on desire. Almost alone among the major Romantics, he came to understand this most basic force in human experience not only as mediated and mimetic but as increasingly a function of a new kind of market whose commanding value was apparent autonomy from the market. It is not too hard to see how he figured this out. Those whom Byron defied adored him; those whose petty gratifications he evaded in spectacular suffering emulated him; those to whose desires he declared himself indifferent desired him—as few have ever been desired. For all his very real faults he was an intelligent man and an observant one. He reflected on what had happened to him.2. Reading Byron's Poetry for Nature and DesireIn his earlier poetry the natural scene, at least in Byron's privileged experiences of it, acts as an ally against other people. It is a source of his difference from and thus his indifference to the rest of us—an apparent replacement for, rather than object of, mediated desire. [End Page 115]Almost the first words of the preface to his fame-making Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1812) tell us that the poem was "written, for the most part, amidst the scenes which it attempts to describe" and a coy disquisition on the identity of the Childe—who is and is not Byron—follows close on the heels of a spate of place-name dropping. They are sexy places, too, hard to get to, exotic, naturally beautiful, and dangerous. Soon the note of human pollution is of course sounded—man "mars" the beauties of Cintra that the hero is experiencing (1980–1993, 1.15)1—reminding us of the prototypical alliance between the alienated Romantic solitary and the unspoiled, or spoiled natural world, alike menaced by sociality, by the Other. This alliance is powerfully reinforced by an identification with the bovine victim of the Cadiz bull-ring, vivid sacrifice at the center of—in the young poet's chilling phrase—"the silent circle's peopled walls" (1.75). Does man scapegoat nature? There could hardly be a handier metaphor. And the Childe makes common cause.Mainly, though, "Dear Nature" is the particular solace of her "never-wean'd" favorite son, the one who never "pollutes her path," he who, as he rather complacently notes, "mark'd her when none other hath" (2.27). Byron does at least make good on such a claim by going to Albania, a wild, inaccessible place which he, with some justification, boasts "all admire, but many dread to view" (2.43). He writes some stirring descriptive poetry, leavened with occasional homilies on the smallness and nastiness of man and the grandeur and beauty of nature, sentiments that would not sound out of character on the lips of young backpacking, development-deploring kindred spirits of a later age. Again, it is to be remembered that the first besmirchment of the natural world to be complained of is not material, but social, in particular by the Romantic rebel's own society—not chemicals and chainsaws but the poisonous presence of overly familiar people and practices. The language of protest remains much the same after the products of industrial economic activity are added to the score, and indeed a good part of... (shrink)

In this article I articulate how phenomenology can and should appropriate the theme of Platonic cognitive erôs. Erôs has two principal meanings: sexual passion and the desire for the whole that characterizes the philosophical life; in its cognitive sense, it implies dissatisfaction with partial truth and aiming at the givenness of the whole. The kind of lived-experience in which the being-true of the world is presented to and affectively allures the knower is a phenomenological analogue to what in (...) Plato is the contemplative communion with the Good. Cognitive desire is always motivated by the consciousness of the lack of knowledge and the recalcitranceon the part of the world to be fully revealed. Husserlian phenomenology confirms the fact that erotic perception is always beckoned by the world and its states of affairs from the outside, as opposed to physiologically reduced Cartesian wonder and internally motivated striving on the part of Kantian reason. (shrink)

For Jean-Paul Sartre, both love and sexual desire are necessarily doomed to failure. In this paper, I wish to briefly explain why Sartre takes this position. Both love and sexual desire fail, as do all patterns to conduct towards the other, because they involve an attempt to simultaneouslycapture the other-as-subject and as-object. This, for Sartre, involves an ontological contradiction which I demonstrate.Furthermore, I wish to offer the outline of a criticism of this position, a criticism made (...) from the perspective of an acceptance of the basic Sartrian approach taken in Being and Nothingness. Sartre’s description of love implies an attempt to overcome ontological aspects of the human condition which are fundamentally insurmountable. I will show that this description is flawed even within the confines of a Sartrian ontology by pointing out unwarranted assumptions on Sartre’s part as to the goals of these activities and their worth, as well as the worth of the emotional consciousness itself. (shrink)

I begin by describing the hideous nature of sexuality, that which makes sexual desire and activity morally suspicious, or at least what we have been told about the moral foulness of sex by, in particular, Immanuel Kant, but also by some of his predecessors (e.g., Augustine) and by some contemporary philosophers. A problem arises because acting on sexual desire, given this Kantian account of sex, apparently conflicts with the Categorical Imperative. I then propose a typology of (...) possible solutions to this sex problem and critically discuss recent philosophical ethics of sex that fall into the typology's various categories. (shrink)

A developing neurobiological/psychological theory of positive motivation gives a key causal role to reward events in the brain which can be directly activated by electrical stimulation (ESB). In its strongest form, this Reward Event Theory (RET) claims that all positive motivation, primary and learned, is functionally dependent on these reward events. Some of the empirical evidence is reviewed which either supports or challenges RET. The paper examines the implications of RET for the concepts of 'motivation', 'desire' and 'reward' or (...) 'pleasure'. It is argued (1) that a 'causal base' as opposed to a functional' concept of motivation has theoretical advantages; (2) that a causal distinction between the focus' and the 'anchor' of desire suggests an ineliminable 'opacity' of desire; and (3) that some affective concept, such as 'pleasure', should play a key role in psychological explanation, distinct from that of motivational (or cognitive) concepts. A concept of 'reward' or 'pleasure' as intrinsically positive affect is defended, and contrasted with the more 'operational' definitions of 'reward' in some of the hypotheses of Roy Wise. (shrink)

Debates about the genuine disease status of controversial diseases rely on intuitions about a range of factors. Adopting tools from experimental philosophy, this paper explores some of the factors that influence judgments about whether low sexual desire should be considered a disease and whether it should be medically treated. Drawing in part on some assumptions underpinning a divide in the literature between viewing low sexual desire as a genuine disease and seeing it as improperly medicalized, we (...) investigate whether health and disease judgments are affected by factors such as an individual’s gender, the cause of the low desire, whether the desire is high or low, and both personal and societal valuations of the condition. Our main findings indicate that (a) the cause of a condition influences whether it is judged a disorder, (b) how the individual values the condition influences whether the condition is seen as a proper target of medical intervention, and (c) perceived dysfunction influences judgments regarding health, disorder classification, medicalization, and medical intervention. Our findings help further illuminate the intricate interplay of factors that influence judgments about health and disease in controversial conditions. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Dharma of Justice in the Sanskrit Epics: Debates on Gender, Varna, and Species by Ruth VanitaBrian Black (bio)The Dharma of Justice in the Sanskrit Epics: Debates on Gender, Varna, and Species. By Ruth Vanita. Oxford: Oxford Unity Press, 2021. Pp. 298. Hardcover £70.00, isbn 978-0-19-285982-2. Ruth Vanita's The Dharma of Justice in the Sanskrit Epics: Debates on Gender, Varna, and Species examines how the Mahābhārata and Rāmāyaṇa (...) discuss questions of justice. She reads the epics as bhakti texts to focus on their depictions of discrimination based on social categories such as gender, varṇa, species, age, and disability. The book claims that the epics criticize oppression in two main ways: by articulating philosophical ideas about social justice and by celebrating characters of a low social status. Six of the twelve chapters are devoted to themes related to gender, including marriage, independence, consent, gender-crossing, parenting, and masculinity. Focusing on the words and actions of characters in the narrative, Vanita does not directly address the question of whether we can take the marginal voices in the text as representing authentic voices of its social context. She also sidesteps the issue of patriarchy: "Every written text ever composed is, in the widest sense, patriarchal, since it was composed in a male-dominated society. Patriarchy is the air we breathe. Therefore, explaining the meaning of a text as patriarchal is as useful as explaining people's actions by the fact that they breathe" (p. 22). I was left wondering, however, if this explanation serves the interests of her study. In a book about oppressed characters, it seems crucial to say more about how systems of oppression operate. Even if we assume that all societies are patriarchal, this does not mean that they are all patriarchal in the same ways or to the same degree. Vanita is an imaginative reader, whose often speculative interpretations offer some valuable perspectives and raise interesting questions. One of the most refreshing features of the book is its extensive discussions of a number of characters and sub-stories rarely analyzed in scholarly literature. In particular, I enjoyed reading Vanita's take on the Mahābhārata's story of Diśā and Aṣṭāvakra (Mbh 13.19–22), where she shows her sensitivity to the ambiguities of this intriguing episode. This story, which appears in the Anuśāsana Parvan, begins when the ascetic Aṣṭāvakra wants to marry the sage Vadānya's daughter, Suprabhā. Before offering his consent, Vadānya sends Aṣṭāvakra to visit the aged female sage Diśā. As Vanita observes, this episode "maps a landscape of desire" [End Page 1] (p. 77) and raises a number of interesting questions about female sexuality as well as female independence. Vanita sees Diśā's motives, rather than merely testing Aṣṭāvakra's desires, as combining her role as a teacher with her own sexual yearnings. Vanita concludes that Diśā's message is that "desire cannot be entirely overcome" (p. 82). From this, she sees Diśā as advocating the conversion of "feverish agitation into happiness within marriage" (p. 83). Vanita's analysis of this story is both engaging and compelling, yet her claim that this episode is an integral part of Yudhiṣṭhira's education as a king remains undeveloped. I wanted to hear more about how this one story fits into the context of the countless others that Bhīṣma recounts to Yudhiṣṭhira. Moreover, her conclusion at the end of the chapter (ch. 4), that the epics "celebrate single women" (p. 85), seems a bit of a stretch considering the few examples she discusses. In chapter 6, Vanita revisits the encounter between Sulabhā and King Janaka (Mbh 12.308), which she discussed in detail twenty years ago.1 Her return to this episode examines the sexual power dynamics between the female sage and the legendary king from Upaniṣadic lore. As Vanita observes, Sulabhā takes the form of a beautiful young woman to test Janaka's claim to be liberated. Vanita explains:We may expect ordinary people to notice a person's looks first of all, but one who claims to be... (shrink)